I Cared for My Ailing Neighbor for Years—Then the Police Showed Up After Her Passing

I Took Care of My Sick Neighbor for Years, but After Her Death, the Police Knocked on My Door

For years, I cared for an old, well-to-do woman until her death. When she passed away, her relatives all emerged from hiding, hoping to gain something from her death. However, the elderly woman had left a surprise that would completely upend our lives!

For seven contented and happy years, I had been taking care of Mrs. Patterson. Her family had essentially abandoned her, and she was an elderly, frail, and lonely woman. Fortunately, she had enough money to keep me on as her caregiver, a position I had no idea would land me in hot water years later.

You see, Mrs. Patterson had a magnificent home. It had workers that came by to handle the expansive gardens that were situated on a hill and that she was no longer able to care for herself. Age had darkened her once-bright eyes, but they still gleamed when we prepared her famous apple pies or played games like Scrabble.

Just enough of her family came to keep up appearances. They would arrive wearing nice clothes and seeming to smile, grab their money, and go.

Long after they were gone, Mrs. Patterson would sit by the window, heartbroken, looking, and waiting for her love to be returned while her fingers delicately tapped the glass. However, they never turned around.

Fortunately, I was more than just her caregiver. She eventually became a member of my family. We exchanged stories, giggles, and intimate moments of comprehension. She was adamant about snapping quick photos of our time together. However, she was surrounded by emptiness despite her wealth, since those who ought to have loved her the most abandoned her.

In contrast, I had no family remaining. I was the sole child of my parents, who had died years before. To be near Mrs. Patterson, I rented a modest room in a nearby home. My relationship with her added purpose to my otherwise ordinary life.

In a manner that no place had ever been, she was my home. She moaned as we watched the raindrops streak down the windowpane one wet afternoon. “You know, Grace, you’re the only person who’s ever truly cared about me, and I’m really thankful for that.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Mrs. Patterson, you don’t have to express gratitude. Over the years, you have been a joy to love and care for.”

I had seen their frustrated looks, their empty hugs, their hands lingering too long on her jewels, and I understood their absence, even though we never really talked about her family or why they were rarely present. Her face softened and she smiled as I squeezed her hand.

“Grace, I’m happy you came. “The only true family I have is you,” she remarked.

I suppressed my tears. “You’re my family too.”

Although we never discussed it again, I felt a greater need to look after her after that day—not just as a job, but as someone who loved her. She was gone in an instant, so I should have realized that was her way of saying goodbye.

One morning, I discovered her sleeping quietly in bed with a small smile on her face. The picture of her late spouse, whom she had loved more than life itself, was in her hand. My heart broke as my knees gave way and I fell to the ground.

I was aware of my next course of action. Fortunately, she showed me where she had written her children’s numbers when I called them. And they promptly threw me out after learning the news, promising to handle things.

It was a gloomy funeral. Wearing black, her children, grandchildren, and other family members were present, offering heartfelt condolences and sorrowful gestures. Even though they pretended to cry, their eyes were glistening with greed and excitement.

I could see the thirst for what she had left behind, the barely disguised impatience. Except for the odd look of mistrust and contempt, they didn’t acknowledge me.

I remained behind after the service, sitting by myself in the pew and gazing at the altar where her coffin had formerly been. I felt as though I had lost a piece of who I was. She had been my boss, but she had been more. She had been my confidante, friend, and relative.

I was heartbroken and fatigued when I got back to my small room that night. I could still hear her laugh, feel her soft touch, and smell her perfume. However, a sudden tap at the door interrupted me as I was descending into the well-known pain of grief.

Everything changed with that knock…

When I opened it, I saw two policemen standing there with solemn expressions. The first to speak was a tall, graying-haired man. “Are you Grace?”

With my heart racing, I nodded. “Yes… is something wrong?”

He said, “We need you to come with us,” in a forceful but friendly voice.

I felt a wave of panic and a chill go through me. Had something occurred? Was there something wrong with my treatment of Mrs. Patterson? Every detail, every prescription, every meal, and every bedtime tale sped through my head. Had I overlooked something?

I drove to Mrs. Patterson’s residence after them. Security personnel stood on either side of the imposing entrance. I was too nervous to inquire about them, but it seemed weird to see them there.

A notary public, a lawyer, and her whole family were present. Tension permeated the air. Victoria, her daughter, whirled abruptly as soon as I entered, her face twisted in rage. She gestured at me with a finger that was manicured.

“That’s her! She played tricks on my mom! This entire situation was orchestrated by her.

My heart pounded painfully as I froze. “I… I don’t understand.”

The lawyer’s voice broke through the confusion as he cleared his throat. The purpose of our visit is to read Mrs. Patterson’s will. Her family demanded that it be finished right away so they could resume their lives. Your appearance is needed because you, Grace, were mentioned in the will.

Every pair of eyes glowed with eagerness as a whisper echoed across the room. With a calm, impersonal voice, the lawyer unfurled the document and started reading.

“To my children, I leave my forgiveness, for they have forsaken me long ago.”

Victoria gasped, her face turning white. Mark, her brother, grimaced and balled his fists.

“To my grandchildren, I leave my hope that they will grow to understand the value of love and loyalty.”

Their excitement waned as they looked at one other in confusion.

“And to my Grace, who has been my caretaker, my friend, and my family… I leave everything, the house, the land, the money, all of it.”

The room blew up!

Anger heated Victoria’s face! “This is untrue! She deceived my mom! She is a treasure hunter.

The security officers, who had entered behind me, intervened and stopped Mark before he could reach me. Anger distorted his features as he struggled. “You tricked her! This is a scam.

My heart was pounding as I stood there, stunned and unable to speak. “I didn’t… I had no idea… I didn’t request any of this.

The ruckus was silenced as the lawyer held up his hand. “Mrs. Patterson was expecting this response. Letters, pictures, and documentation of the years she spent with Grace are the evidence she left behind. She wanted everyone to know that she made this deliberate and resolute choice.

He gave me a box containing pictures of us laughing at dumb jokes, playing board games, and baking pies. Letters written in her lovely hand, describing the love she felt and the connection we shared. With my hands shaking and my vision blurred by tears, I gripped the box tightly.

She had foreseen what would happen when she passed away, which is why she made me shoot all those pictures. When the lawyer read one more directive from the will, the guards also made sense at last:

Make sure Grace, my caregiver, is safe when my family finds out about my choice. I don’t think they’ll handle this politely.

Victoria’s face went white as she fell onto the couch. “She… she left us nothing?”

The attorney gave a nod. “She made it quite evident that you left her. This is her last request.

There was nothing else to talk about, so the guards quickly led the family out while yelling threats, accusations, and protestations. I saw them go, broken and hollow, their inner avarice eating them alive.

The lawyer came over to me when the place was at last quiet.

“Grace, she loved you. She wanted a house for you. a family.

With tears running down my cheeks, I collapsed to the ground. “I loved her too.”

“Then honor her memory by living in the home she cherished,” he added, placing a soft hand on my shoulder. After giving me the house key, the notary asked me to sign a few documents and said she will get in contact. After that, they both departed with the police officers.

As I took possession of the place that had previously felt like home, I gazed around feeling startled, overpowered, and utterly unprepared. Suddenly, the large mansion felt empty, although it was still resonant with her love, generosity, and laughter. She had it, and now I had it.

I had received more than just a house from Mrs. Patterson. Even in death, she had given me a family. My friend, my grandmother, and my house would always be with me, I realized as I stood there with the box of memories.

What about her supposed family? All they had left were their own regrets.